No Longer a Rumor
by AnneWithane
Summary: Re-titled and revised as of June 5, 2004. New chapter has been added as well. A look at what happens when a family's worst fear becomes reality. (Complete)
1. Default Chapter

_Disclaimer: Obviously, any characters you recognize from ItHotN aren__'__t mine, and no money is being made. This is simply a creative exercise._

_Thanks: Thank you, Julia, for your early feedback on this story. As ever, I hope we get to see more chapters of your fabulous stories soon! Thank you, Rhonda, who was kind enough to beta-read a later version for me. Any mistakes that remain are mine, not theirs._

_Summary: Re-titled and revised as of __June 1, 2004__. New chapter has been added as well. A look at what happens when a family__'__s worst fear becomes reality. (Complete)_

_A/N: All chapters have been revised a bit, to better fit into a developing story arc. If you happened upon this story before June of 2004, none of the changes made are substantive, with one exception. More on that later__…___

Chapter 1:

Betty Stiles glanced up as Bubba Skinner sidled anxiously into the Assistant District Attorney's outer office. The elderly secretary took one look at the captain as he filled the doorway before her sarcastic greeting died in her throat. She did not have to ask to know that something was wrong - Bubba's blank expression, the thick hands crumpling his hat brim were eloquent in their own right.

Clearly the sharp barbs Betty normally traded with Bubba would not be appreciated today. The members of Laura Jamison's staff had picked up her habit of teasing the cops when they stopped by with reports or evidence for the many cases crossing Laura's desk. Everyone knew of the mutual condescension that white-collar lawyers and blue-collar policemen often shared for each other, but Laura chose to break down the barrier by openly making fun of it. She refused to put up with any guff from the other members of the D.A.'s staff, or from members of the police force.

Bubba only nodded his head when Betty told him Laura was with the D.A. and asked if he wanted to wait in her office. She opened the door for him and turned toward her office mate as she shut it behind him.

"What do you suppose is goin' on?" she whispered quietly.

"I don't know," Janice answered in a stage whisper. "I haven't seen a sorry expression like that since God was a boy."

Betty thought for a moment before pursing her lips together and knocking softly on Laura's office door. The muscular police captain stood by the window, crumpled hat still in hand. He barely looked up when she spoke to him.

"Bubba, she and Gerard had several things to go over. She could be a little while. Do you want me to tell her you're here?"

He nodded his head slowly; never taking his eyes from whatever it was outside that fascinated him so. Quietly Betty closed the door once more and headed across the office to knock on the District Attorney's door.

For several long seconds, Bubba didn't move, refusing even to breathe. _I shouldn't be here, like this,_ he thought as he watched cars pass by City Hall in what amounted to rush hour traffic in Sparta. He should be at the station, writing reports in preparation to finish another long shift. He shouldn't be here, with this thing to do. Somewhat absently he wondered if this moment would feel any different…not easier, certainly, but _different_…if he hadn't himself gotten married not so long ago. If he weren't standing here, thinking not only about the woman for whom he was waiting, but another woman who might someday receive the same message he was here to deliver now.

He backed away from the open window abruptly as a familiar white sedan passed below. He saw the number painted on top of the car, searching his memory for which officers were on patrol. Everett. That's right. He'd asked to switch shifts with Parker just a few days ago. Bubba had made the schedule out himself. He envied Luke Everett and Parker Williams – envied them because they were not standing where he was at this moment, waiting to deliver this particular message.

Sighing heavily, he turned away from the window, letting his eyes wander where they would. He'd always thought this was a nice office – classy, feminine without being prissy, much like its inhabitant – strong with a healthy dose of softness to smooth over the rough spots. An area rug in muted tones of yellow and peach covered most of the dark wooden floor, concealing the tracks left behind by the thousands of people who'd been in and out of this old office in this old building in this little town. Beige walls and white trim further brightened the old floor and its accompanying dark, heavy furniture. Thick law books neatly lined the shelves of the bookcase behind the desk, interspersed occasionally by a photograph, a small vase of silk flowers handmade by her grandmother. _Mrs. Tompkins? __Taylor__?_ He couldn't remember. A short stack of manila folders lay on either side of the blotter on her desk, and he recognized many of the names written on the tabs in her determined hand.

She kept most of her photographs on her desk, and he stared at them as his heart sank further in his chest. One was a photograph of Lonnie, taken on their honeymoon. Bubba knew – because Laura had told him – that Lonnie hated that picture; but it was one of her favorites and she stubbornly refused to honor his wish that she put it away and never bring it out again. He looked at the man standing on the beach in the photograph. Sunlight glanced off the golden highlights in his dark hair as he squinted into the camera, a lazy half-smile turning up one corner of his mouth. What struck Bubba about the picture was the fact that it had been taken nearly four years ago, yet Lonnie hadn't changed a bit. He glanced at the other photographs, dogs and vacations and friends and family and Lonnie. Always Lonnie.

Bubba didn't consider himself a sentimental person, he never had. He kept the important cards close to the vest, even though he didn't keep the chokehold on them that Lonnie Jamison did. He didn't have Lonnie's poker face, but even he could see the half-smile that worked its way across his features whenever Laura came around.

After almost four years of marriage, Lonnie and Laura had a well-developed repertoire of private gestures, a code language of sorts, looks and winks and quirky smiles they shared even in public. They thought no one was the wiser, and Bubba supposed most people weren't, but he'd known Lonnie for over ten years, and had known Laura since she first came to Sparta, so he knew. He knew and Virgil and Althea Tibbs knew and the chief knew and the sheriff knew and Willson Sweet knew. Hell, even Parker knew, but Parker also knew not to talk about it, unlike most everything else.

His gaze began to drift back toward the window just as the door opened. Laura breezed in, blue eyes dancing as usual. Bubba felt the corners of his mouth harden as he realized that Betty had obviously not prepared Laura for his current mood.

"Hey, Bubba," she said brightly. "You would not believe what Gerard says we should do about the…"

He watched her as she talked, but the roaring in his ears drowned out whatever she was saying. He had always wondered how she put in a fifteen-hour day and still managed to look as cool and crisp and perfectly put together as she always did. He admired that kind of composure, that polish she had, and knew without a doubt that she'd need every bit of it to deal with what was coming.

Laura stopped in front of her desk, tossing a handful of files onto the blotter as she smiled at him. She had such a wide smile. He'd always liked her smile – thought it was her best feature. Her sharp eyes really looked at his face for the first time, and the smile froze in place.

"Bubba? Are you okay?" she asked as the first hint of dread crept its way across her expression.

She stood nearly six feet tall herself in her heels, but Bubba's six-feet-four-inches still forced him to look down into her face. He felt as if he'd swallowed sawdust as he looked at her, eyes so wide and trusting and expectant and concerned. And terribly, terribly young. Suddenly she didn't look like the tough, scrappy prosecutor she'd become; but more like the willowy, fresh-faced law student that had walked into their office six years ago. So much had changed since then, but not Laura. Bubba knew as he took a deep breath that he was about to change her. In fact, he had no doubt that whatever the outcome of this…nightmare; she'd never be the same. None of them would be.

"Honey, are you 'bout done for the day?" He hated the sound of his own voice at this moment, hated the way her keen eyes began to look him over, the way her she drew herself up straighter as if preparing for a blow.

"Bubba?" She seemed to hold her breath for a moment before continuing, as the question he knew she didn't want to ask sat poised on her lips. "What is it?"

"We…uh…" he struggled, hating his own weakness. He didn't want to hurt this woman, this friend, like he was about to. "There was a shootin'."

For the first time, Laura noticed two tiny scarlet stains on Bubba's shirtfront. She froze, jaw open, refusing to breath as she looked at them. Finally, she dragged her eyes from those tell-tale stains to Bubba's dark eyes. "Is he at the hospital?"

Bubba nodded mutely.

"Is he…" her body shook as she tried to force herself to ask the next question. "Is he alive?"

Bubba nodded again, but his eyes told her all she needed to know about the grimness of the situation.

"It's bad?"

"Yeah, honey, I'm afraid it is," he said, nodding again. Her pale skin lost its rosy glow in the late afternoon light, her posture taking on a brittleness that suggested she might shatter at any moment. He didn't know whether to reach out for her or stay put, so he waited for her to give some indication.

"Okay. Okay," she said, clenching and unclenching her hands as she crossed the room. Snatching her purse out of the tiny closet, she glanced over her at him. "Will you drive?"

"Yeah, I'm parked out front," he said, following her out of the room and toward the staircase. His long legs worked to keep pace with her light, frantic strides as she flew toward the front door.

TBC…


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2:

By the time they reached the hospital, Laura knew she was walking through her worst nightmare. She hoped with increasing desperation that she would wake up to find that it had been another bad dream, or someone's horrible idea of a joke. She clung to the hope that Lonnie would be standing in the hospital corridor, chatting with the sheriff or the chief about the high school track team or the weather or anything at all. He'd catch site of her and jerk his chin upward in greeting like he always did. His hazel eyes would flash with warmth before he turned his attention back to the subject at hand. And she'd smile at him, relieved that she'd heard Bubba incorrectly, and they'd all chat amicably about inconsequential things. Daily things. And whatever poor soul was lying in a hospital bed would make a miraculous recovery.

Nearly every cruiser on the Sparta police force was parked outside Newman County Hospital's emergency entrance. White Crown Victorias filled the gravel parking lot, leaving little room for other visitors. A small crowd had started to gather outside the entrance, as people pointed at the patrol cars and shook their heads in confusion. It probably wouldn't be long before someone called the newspaper.

Laura got out of the car on wooden legs; not at all sure she could even feel them beneath her as she made her way past the crowd and into the building. All she could feel was the pounding in her chest, and the sick feeling rising from her toes and threatening to overwhelm her.

Bubba appeared by her side, leading her gently by the elbow toward the surgical wing. The corridor and waiting room outside the OR were filled with police officers. They parted solicitously for Laura as she and Bubba waded into the crowd, and Laura felt her head start to swim. Black pinpricks began to obscure her vision. Suddenly Bubba's hold on her elbow became her only connection to the physical world.

He led her toward a small space near the nurses' stand, where Sheriff Gillespie, Chief Forbes, Sweet, LuAnn, and Virgil and Althea Tibbs had gathered. Hampton Forbes leaned back against the wall, arms folded over his thick chest as he conferred with the sheriff, who looked that afternoon to have aged several years in several hours. Bill Gillespie had been Lonnie's chief for almost ten years, and knew both the Jamison's well. LuAnn Corbin and Willson Sweet stood silently together, watching Laura and Bubba make their way toward them.

In stark contrast to the others, Virgil Tibbs paced the tiny waiting area like a caged tiger. Althea stood against the opposite wall, hands clenched by her sides, nervously watching her ex-husband's burly form. When she caught sight of Laura and Bubba heading toward them, she was the first in the group to move forward.

"Laura, honey, I'm so sorry," Althea said as she hugged her.

Her friend's few words began to unravel the protective fog Laura had wrapped around herself when she'd caught the look of dread in Bubba's eyes. She looked at the other members of the group, and back at Althea. "Thea, how did you get here so quickly?" she murmured.

"I brought Sarah and William for a visit. I was visiting with Aunt Etta when Sheriff Gillespie called the house. You know I'll be here with you guys," Althea finished as she hugged Laura again.

Willson Sweet approached them. His solid black Canard City Police uniform stood out in stark contract to the sea of light blue-on-navy Sparta uniforms surrounding them.

"Sweet," Laura said as he bussed her cheek.

"I don't…I don't know what to say," he told her with a lame shake of his head.

"I know." She turned toward the group at large. "Somebody tell me what happened. How did he…Somebody tell me he's going to be all right," she struggled to hold back her tears. She knew that once she let them come, a torrent would be unleashed that she would not be able to control.

Before any of the others could speak, Dr. Frank Robb came down the hall from the surgical wing. Laura felt her stomach lurch – the blood covering the front of his surgical gown could only have one source.

_'__There__'__s so much blood__…__he must have lost__…'_ she thought.

Everyone stood a little straighter as the doctor approached. He looked at the assembled group before focusing on the patient's wife. Laura was sure as she watched him that she saw the doctor make eye contact with Bill Gillespie and give an almost imperceptible shake of his head in answer to the question in the sheriff's eyes.

Sighing deeply, he began a succinct recitation of the lieutenant's condition. "Mrs. Jamison, the bullet collapsed one of your husband's lungs and pierced his heart. Luckily it missed most of his major arteries, but considerable damage was done inside the chest cavity. It'll be a while before we know anything for sure, but I know I don't need to tell you how grave the situation is." He glanced around at the others, finishing with a long look at his old friend Bill Gillespie. "I don't want you to give up hope, because we're doing everything we can; but prayer is probably in order right now."

Before Dr. Robb had even finished his last sentence, Laura's muscles refused to hold her upright any longer. With one quiet sob, she began to sink to the floor until Sweet caught her in both his arms. Althea and LuAnn crowded around, each of them rushing to hug her, as the rest of the assembly looked on in mute horror.

Sheriff Gillespie put a hand to Dr. Robb's elbow as he turned to go back to the operating room. "Is there no hope?" he quietly demanded.

Dr. Robb's expression was heavy as he returned his friend's piercing stare. "Very little I'm afraid. But I meant it when I told her we won't give up on him. Not until there's nothing left we can do." Taking his old friend by the elbow, he whispered, "It's not entirely unlikely she's going to a widow soon. Do what you can, will you?"

Tracy Boggs tiptoed into Lonnie Jamison's room, blinking as her vision adjusted to the dim interior. Her practiced eyes quickly checked the multitude of monitors and dosage counters surrounding the patient before focusing on the quiet, listless form folded into the chair beside the bed.

Laura sat with one long leg curled beneath her as she leaned heavily against her husband's bedside. Her fingers twined around his hand and Tracy could just make out Lonnie's wedding ring hanging from a chain around Laura's neck.

Tracy tried to swallow the heavy thoughts that had again plagued her since Lieutenant Jamison was rolled into the hospital. In the years Tracy had been nursing, it had somehow never gotten easier to deal with the patients that didn't get better. Even harder was dealing with their families. As inspiring and miraculous as it was to be part of pulling a patient through a dark hour, seeing one slip away always left Tracy wondering if nursing was really the right career choice. From time to time she wondered if she wouldn't be better off in a 'safer' career, as her mother often insisted. Most of the time Tracy was successful in pushing such thoughts aside, except when she saw a situation she felt powerless to change, such as this one. Sternly she admonished herself to focus on the task at hand, and stepped forward to interrupt the other woman's vigil.

"Laura?" she asked in a respectful whisper. "Is there anything I can get for you?"

The slender redhead started, noticing Tracy for the first time. "Tracy, I'm sorry. I didn't hear you come in."

"It's okay. You were focused on other things."

Laura attempted a rueful smile. "I don't think I can focus on much of anything right now. Reverend Stafford was here a little while ago, and I had trouble completing a thought, much less a sentence."

Tracy shoved her hands deep into the pockets of her lab coat and tilted her head to one side thoughtfully. "You should really try to get some sleep. It might be best for you if you went on home. I promise I'll call you if anything changes."

Laura shook her head stubbornly, casting another long look at her husband's face. "I…I can't."

Tracy was sympathetic, but firm. "You ain't gonna do him any good if you get sick too, ya' know. What you need is some rest and a good meal and…"

"No," Laura said, refusing to let the other woman finish her sentence. "What if he wakes up for just a minute and I'm not here? If I was the one lyin' there, he'd stay, no matter how long it took, and I won't…" She struggled against her crumbling emotions, taking a deep breath before being able to continue. "I have to be here. I'd never be able to forgive myself if he woke up for the…for just a minute, and I wasn't here." She roughly brushed away the tears slipping down her face. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to…"

"No, don't apologize. I think I understand," Tracy said as she crossed to the other side of the bed to check on one piece of equipment she couldn't see from her spot by the door. "This one's just about empty. I'll go get another one started so this thing doesn't squawk at us. Let me know if there's anythin' I can do for you," she said as she pulled a blanket out of the cabinet and draped it around Laura's shoulders. "Try to get some rest."

Without waiting for a reply Tracy turned on her heel and quickly exited the room, feeling a sudden longing for the bright light of the midday sun on her face. She nearly ran into Althea Tibbs and Sheriff Gillespie as they turned the corner toward Lieutenant Jamison's room.

"Whoa there, young lady," the sheriff gently admonished as he put out a hand to steady her elbow.

 "Were you just checking on Lieutenant Jamison?" Mrs. Tibbs asked.

"Yes," Tracy nodded somberly. "There still hasn't been much change."

"How is Mrs. Jamison?" the sheriff asked.

Tracy glanced back at the door to the room as if to judge the likelihood of her comment being overheard. Her voice was barely above a whisper when she replied. "She seems a little fragile."

The sheriff's expression grew contemplative as Mrs. Tibbs pressed for details. "More so than you would expect of someone whose husband's in critical condition?"

"I think so," Tracy answered as she bit her bottom lip. "It's just so sad. I know they haven't been married all that long, and they're both so young."

Sheriff Gillespie's steel-colored eyebrows rose as he nodded his head in agreement. "Indeed they are."

Tracy leaned toward the pair, eager to enlist their help in dealing with the redhead in the next room. "I need to be going, but if there's anything you can say or do that might help her take better care of herself, or start to prepare herself for…whatever might happen next, that would be wonderful."

The elderly sheriff answered for both of them. "Okay. Thank you."

Tracy nodded her thanks quickly before heading off toward the nurse's lounge, and a much-needed break from her duties.

TBC…


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3:

Althea squinted as she followed Sheriff Gillespie into the darkened interior of Lonnie's room. Laura looked up at them as they entered, seemingly annoyed at first, until recognition flared across her face. She offered them a weak smile by way of greeting.

"Hi there," Althea returned softly.

The tall redhead seemed to try mightily to summon some warmth into her features, but failed. "Hi," she said limply as she glanced toward the room's only other visitor's chair. "Come on in. Let me go see if I can borrow another chair somewhere."

Althea admonished her friend as gently as possible. "You don't have to play hostess, hon."

Bill Gillespie jumped in quickly in agreement. "There's not much comfortable about one of these rooms, is there?"

Laura sighed audibly. "Eventually you get used to it."

Bill glanced toward the quite, pale figure lying in the narrow bed. "How's our patient?"

Laura looked longingly at her husband's face before she answered. "Nothin's changed."

"How are you?" Althea asked, thinking it an absurd question when her friend's sorrow was so plainly written across her patrician features.

The slender woman attempted a chuckle. "Nothin's changed."

Althea's response was automatic, the mother in her taking over. "Have you eaten?"  
  
A sarcastic glare was the only reply she got for her efforts.  
  
Bill, however, seemed to take Laura's silence as a cue for action. "Do you want me to get you somethin'?" he asked, pointing toward the door. Althea suspected what he really wanted was to leave the room – and its overwhelming sadness – behind.  
  
Althea wouldn't have thought it possible, but Laura's face seemed to grow a shade paler as she raised her free hand to her stomach. "No, please. My mother left a little while ago to do the same thing, but whatever she finds will wind up like everything else folks have brought in - cold and stale and sittin' on the shelf there until a nurse throws it away. It's so sweet of everyone to try, but the last thing I feel like doin' is eating."  
  
Bill seemed to understand as he took his well-worn hat off his head and shoved a hand through his snowy hair. "What can we do for you?" he asked as he placed the hat on the foot of the bed.  
  
Laura shrugged before shaking her head. "Oh, nothing. I do appreciate the thought, but there's just...nothing. And I apologize up front if I'm lousy company. There's too much on my mind at the moment...I'm not much of a conversationalist these days."  
  
As Althea struggled for an answer, Bill seemed to strike upon an idea he liked. "Why don't you two girls step outside for a minute? It's a gorgeous day. I'll sit right here until you get back."  
  
Immediately Laura refused, tightening her hold on Lonnie's cold fingers. "Oh, thank you, but I don't think..."  
  
As Althea looked at her friend, whose normally rosy complexion had become decidedly pasty, she knew a bit of sunshine would do the younger woman a world of good. "Come on, hon, one loop around the parking lot, then we'll come right back."  
  
Bill moved toward the open visitor's chair and settled his sturdy frame into the uncomfortable contraption. "This'll give me a chance to chat with your mother a bit when she gets back. I haven't seen her in several years now."  
  
To Althea's satisfaction, a ghost of a grin drifted across Laura's face. "Well, she's never met a stranger, so I'm sure y'all will have plenty to talk about."  
  
Bill waved them toward the door. "Well, that sounds just fine. Y'all go on."  
  
Reluctantly Laura accepted Althea's hand up out of her chair and followed as Althea made her way outside. The afternoon was bright and warm and beautiful – a shocking juxtaposition to the funereal atmosphere of the tiny hospital room they'd just left.

For a long moment neither woman spoke, but Althea regarded her friend's face as they walked, watching the wheels turn over and over in Laura's mind. Searching for some way to draw the younger woman out in conversation, Althea jumped in. "Would it help you to talk about it?"  
  
Laura swallowed past a fresh wave of tears before answering. "The only thing that would help would be his opening those eyes, sittin' up in that bed, and arguin' with me about something." She chuckled softly at the thought before continuing wistfully. "Part of me is waxing philosophical about life, death, God, fate, you name it; but the bigger part of me just wants to throw a temper tantrum until time spins itself backward to this time last week. A week ago my life was perfect, even if I didn't realize it at the time."  
  
Althea nodded as the two of them stopped to let a young mother and her three exuberant children cross in front of them. Linking an elbow through her friend's, Althea moved forward again. "I've had this quote running around and around in my head for the last few days: 'Death is a distant rumor to the young.'" At least, it's only _supposed_ to be a rumor…"

Laura's snort was indelicate, but expressive. "Well, it's certainly not a rumor any more. Not to me it's not."

"Not to anyone who knows you guys. I wish there was more I could do to help you." Althea stopped suddenly, unsure she should finish the next thought that formed on her lips. A tug on her elbow told her Laura had caught her self-edit and encouraged her to continue with her line of thought – a line of thought that had plagued her ever since she'd first learned of the shooting. She continued hesitantly. "I don't know that I could be in your shoes right now."  
  
Laura stopped abruptly, using their linked elbows to pull Althea to a halt beside her. "You never give yourself enough credit for your own strength. You know that, right?"

As Althea answered she felt a familiar wave of sadness threaten to overwhelm her. "I wish you weren't where you are right now. I couldn't do it. I'd go crazy."

Laura's sharp eyes narrowed as she studied Althea's face. Althea was not sure she appreciated the scrutiny, nor was she prepared for the question that came next. "That's why you divorced Virgil, isn't it?"

Althea's first instinct was to deny the truth, but she knew the woman standing before her too well to get away with it. Guiltily, she nodded as she looked down toward her feet. "I feel so stupid. I lectured you so smugly about dealing with what it means to be a cop's wife, without having any idea what I was talking about. I thought I knew, but after the twins were born, I was _sure_ I was going to end up a single mother, a widow, and the thought just terrified me. I pushed and pushed for Virgil to finish his degree and change careers, but by the time he did, he was miserable and it was my fault."

Laura's sky-colored eyes were warm with empathy when she responded. "Thea, he was tired, but that's to be expected."

Refusing to allow herself any quarter, Althea stubbornly shook her head. "It was more than that. He _wanted_ to be a cop. He didn't want to be a lawyer."

"Honey, if he didn't want that law degree, no amount of pushing from anyone would've made him get it. He wanted _you._ He made a choice to change careers because it was what you wanted."

Althea felt her jaw set in a stubborn line. "He should have been able to have _both.__"_

Laura nodded once begrudgingly as she crossed her arms over her chest. "Maybe, but I don't have to be inside Virgil's head to know that nothing is more important to that man than you, and Billy and Sarah. You didn't make him give up anything he hadn't already decided wasn't his number one priority. I don't think he blames you. I just think he misses you."

Althea felt her expression soften, growing decidedly wistful as she responded. "One of the things you guys have always had is faith in each other. I thought my marriage was strong, but didn't have the faith I thought I did when it mattered most." She shrugged. "I envy you that a little bit. I wish I could go back and do some things over."

A fresh wave of tears began to gather in her friend's eyes as Althea watched. "It's not too late, you know," Laura said.

Althea felt tears of empathy begin to gather in her own eyes as she thought about her past pain and loss, and that being experienced by her friend now. She nearly choked on her emotions before she was able to answer. "Oh, I don't think that Virgil…"

Laura's expression was insistent as she reached out gripped Althea by the arm. "Just talk to him before you make up your mind again. Please? Promise a sad friend that much." Laura stopped, swiping roughly at the tears sliding down her cheeks before continuing. "Don't pass up _any_ chance you get…"

Althea leaned forward and hugged the heart-broken young woman tightly. "Oh, honey, there are so many promises I wish I could make you right now."

"I just want him better. I don't care what it takes."

"I know. We'll all keep praying until he turns the corner."

Laura pulled back suddenly before turning back the way they came. "I wanna get back, Thea," she said as a distinct note of desperation shaded her voice. "I don't want to be gone more than a few minutes."

"Okay," Althea answered as she once again linked her elbow through her friend's and started back toward the hospital's artificially bright corridors. As they walked in heavy silence, Althea's mind swirled with silent prayers that she might be able to affect positive changes both for her two friends and for herself and her own family.

TBC…


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4:

Soon after their return to Lonnie's room, Althea and the sheriff said their goodbyes and promised to call again, then left her alone. Laura's mother had left a note saying she had run out to attend to a brief errand and would be back later. The small room suddenly seemed more cramped in its emptiness, and Laura longed for a voice, a presence, something to distract her from the incessant mechanical chirping, and the fear and loneliness that had become her constant companions in recent days. Once more the mantle of exhaustion settled itself around her shoulders as she resumed her vigil. As she watched, and waited, her weary mind began to pull scenes from the past; snippets and images and conversations – some of them frozen like photographs, others as real as if they were taking place all over again. Of all of them, the first time events forced her to confront her husband's mortality stood out with particular clarity.****

_"__The hell?__"___

_"__Pretty talk, Missy,__"__ in Betty__'__s distinctively nasal and motherly tone, was the only answer Laura__'__s heated outburst received.__  
  
In less than a minute she stood in front of Betty__'__s desk, face flushed with feverish heat.__  
  
Betty looked up over the rim of her glasses, fingers poised over the keyboard. __"__If you keep blushin__'__ like that, one of these days all the blood is gonna to rush right out of your heart and up to your head, and you__'__re going to pass out right at my feet. So if you wouldn__'__t mind...__"___

_"__Betty,__"__ Laura snapped, in no mood for Betty__'__s peculiar sense of humor. __"__Have you seen this? Did you assign this case to me?__"__ she demanded, waving the offending manila folder in Betty__'__s general direction.___

_Betty sighed, taking her fingers off the keyboard and swiveling around to face Laura fully. __"__You__'__ve been here a year now. You know the rules. Cases are assigned as they come in, to the next A.D.A. on the rotation. Last night was your turn to catch. Whatever landed on your desk is there because it was your turn to get the latest case through the door. And no, if it landed directly on your desk, I didn__'__t read it. I certainly don__'__t have time to read everythin__'__ that comes in the door. If I did that, I__'__d have no time to type your motions, transcribe everything from your Dictaphone...__"___

_"__Fine,__"__ Laura retorted, turning to stalk back toward her office. __"__Please hold my calls for a little while. I__'__ve gotta go kick some ass.__"___

_"__Someone__'__s in a crude mood this mornin__'__,__"__ Betty remarked, obviously not the least bit flustered at her boss__'__s temper tantrum or the door that slammed loudly enough to shake the adjoining walls.__  
  
Laura barely heard Betty__'__s comment, and paid no attention to the __'__tsk, tsking__'__ that continued to drift through the door as she snatched up the phone and dialed the police station. She punched in the patrol captain__'__s extension, knowing it was her best chance of getting Lonnie directly.___

_"__Sparta Police Department, Parker Williams speakin__'__,__"__ came the cheerful greeting over the phone.___

_"__Parker,__"__ Laura bit out between clenched teeth. __"__Is my husband there?__"___

_"__Well, yes, ma__'__am, he sure is. He__'__s in with Detective Tibbs pullin__'__ together a report for a case that__'__ll be headed your way directly. I think...__"__  
  
She cut him off before he could go on any further. __"__Put him on the phone, please.__"__  
  
It finally seemed to dawn on Parker that she was not in a conversational mood, and his tone was somewhat more somber when he answered. __"__Yes, ma__'__am. Hold on.__"__  
  
Laura swallowed in effort to control the fury pounding out a steady staccato beat between her temples. She could already tell this was going to be one of  _those_ days. Nausea threatened to overwhelm her for a moment until she heard a familiar voice on the other end of the phone.___

_"__Hey, babe,__"__ Lonnie greeted her with concern evident in his voice. __"__What__'__s up? Parker said...__"___

_"__Do you have something you wanna tell me?__"__ she spat._

_"__Excuse me?__"__ he asked, wariness replacing the earlier note of concern.___

_"__Last night, when you came home and we had dinner together, and then spent the whole night there in our house, and then when we crawled into bed and fell asleep together, was there somethin__'__ you just _forgot_ to tell me? Maybe somethin__'__ you were savin__'__ for later?__"___

_"__Laura,__"__ he said in that way that usually stopped her in her tracks. __"__Listen, about that...__"___

_"'__About that__'__!? Lonnie, you got _shot_ last night. Are you seriously gonna try to blow it off? Did you think I wasn__'__t gonna to find out about it?__"__  
  
The shriller Laura__'__s voice became, the quieter and more serious Lonnie__'__s voice became.___

_"__Laura, stop it. Okay? I was wearin__'__ a vest. I__'__m fine. I just didn__'__t think about it last night, and I can__'__t talk about this right now...__"___

_"__Fine. When a more convenient time rolls around for you, let me know,__"__ she spat, and slammed the receiver back into its cradle before he could respond. She noticed the tremor in her hands just before her breakfast revolted, sending her running headlong down the hall for the bathroom.__  
  
  
  
The day passed in a blur, and after a brief stop at the house to feed Sampson and Delilah, Laura found herself driving around until she came to Virgil and Althea__'__s. Naturally, Althea had already heard about the altercation, and was ready with herbal tea and words of comfort when Laura showed up on her doorstep.__  
  
Althea let her in and settled with her on the living room sofa before broaching the subject._

_"__How are you doing?__"___

_"__Miserable,__"__ she answered. __"__I acted like a complete ass today. And I__'__m ashamed of myself, but I__'__m also furious with him. How could he hide something like that from me?__"_

_"__I don__'__t think he thought he was hiding anything from you, necessarily,__"__ Althea started. __"__Sometimes men and women see things differently, you know__…"__  
  
Laura cut in. __"__I know that, but...__"___

_"__No,__"__ her friend said, holding up a hand to stop her. __"__Let me finish. Lonnie has to face certain dangers every day. One of the ways to deal with that, if he__'__s anything like Virgil anyway, is to minimize the danger. Certain risks are part of being a police officer, and they__'__ve spent a lot more time thinking about those dangers than we have. In fact, they don__'__t just think about them, they__'__ve had to face them head-on in order to stay on the job.__"___

_"__I know that, in theory anyway, I know it. And I remember what you told me when Lonnie and I got engaged. I thought I__'__d come to terms with the fact that my husband__'__s not,__"__ she paused, waving a hand around the air in search of the right word, __"__...I don__'__t know, an accountant or something.__"__ She sighed heavily, setting down her tea cup and tucking her feet beneath her. __"__Maybe I didn__'__t do as good a job as I thought I did.__"__  
  
Althea__'__s dark eyebrows quirked toward her hairline as she gave a rueful smile. __"__Maybe not,__"__ she agreed. __"__But maybe this is your chance. Trust me when I say I know what I__'__m talking about here, and if you don__'__t come to terms with Lonnie__'__s job, it _will_ drive a wedge between you, and no one wants to see that happen,__"__ she said as she gripped her friend__'__s arm in support. __"__Least of all Lonnie.__"__  
  
Before Laura could respond, someone knocked on the front door. Laura felt the color drain from her face she shot to her feet._

_"__That__'__s probably him,__"__ Althea said, rising to cross toward the door. __"__Can I let him in?__"___

_"__I think I__'__m gonna be sick,__"__ Laura said, quickly exiting the room. She flew to the kitchen, and stopped, unsure where to go next. She couldn__'__t see into the front of the house, but she could hear Althea move toward the front door and unfasten the lock.___

_"__Hi, Lonnie. Come on in.__"___

_"__Evenin__'__, Althea,__"__ he returned grimly.___

_"__Is Virgil with you?__"___

_"__He__'__ll be along directly. He was just wrappin__'__ up with the Chief.__"___

_"__Okay,__"__ she said as their footsteps moved toward the living room.__  
  
After a brief silence, Laura heard her husband__'__s voice again. __"__Is she here?__"___

_"__Yeah. I think she went in the kitchen. Why don__'__t you go on back? I__'__ll keep Virgil in the front of the house when he comes in.__"___

_"__Thank you,__"__ he answered, before his footsteps began heading in Laura__'__s direction._

_Laura crossed her arms over her chest, gearing herself up for the fight she was sure was coming. She was not prepared, however, for the expression Lonnie wore as he stepped through the doorway._

_Instead of the righteous indignation she expected, his expression was soft with concern and hesitation, his held tilted slightly to one side the way it usually did when she needed to vent about an annoying incident at work or some other trivial issue._

_The sympathy in his eyes knocked her for a loop, and the nausea of a moment before was quickly replaced by exhaustion and regret. The torrent of emotions flooding through her wiped away all the glib comebacks she had ready and left her speechless._

_Lonnie stopped just inside the door, crossing his arms over his chest as though preparing himself for the argument he obviously expected from her. When she didn__'__t say anything at all, he studied her for a moment before breaking the heavy silence._

_"__You look like you could use a hug.__"___

_A sob escaped her lips and shook her shoulders as she nodded her head. Before she had the chance to respond further, he strode forward and wrapped her in his long arms, clutching her firmly to his chest. For a long moment, the only sounds in the kitchen were the soft sounds of the wall clock marking time, Laura__'__s ragged breathing, and Lonnie__'__s whispered words of reassurance._

_"__Sweetheart, I love you. So much. I__'__m sorry I didn__'__t tell you last night. I didn__'__t want to worry you, and I didn__'__t want you to flip out. Only you did find out, and you flipped all right, but,__"__ he said, drawing back enough to tip her chin up so she had to meet his penetrating eyes. __"__Somethin__'__ tells me your reaction is based partially on somethin__'__ else; I__'__m just not sure what it is yet.__"___

_Despite the urge to look away, Laura met his gaze, careful to keep any trace of anger out of her response. __"__You kept somethin__'__ from me. You__'__ve never done that before.__"___

_"__You know I was tryin__'__ to protect you, right?__"___

_"__I know, honey, and I love you for it, but we__'__ve talked about this before. I__'__ve seen too many of your coworkers grow distant from their spouses because their spouses can__'__t handle them comin__'__ home and talkin__'__ about the job. I__'__m afraid of losing you in _any_ sense __–__ if it starts with one secret, it__'__ll become two, then the secrets__'__ll get bigger, and pretty soon, we__'__ll be like those other couples. I don__'__t want that for us.__"___

_"__That__'__ll_  never _happen to us, I promise,__"__ he swore, giving her another squeeze._

_"__How do I know that if you__'__re gonna keep things from me? Especially important things? And with my job, you know I__'__m going to find out about it anyway, sooner or later.__"___

_Lonnie nodded in agreement as he answered. __"__You__'__re right. I__'__m sorry, and I promise I won__'__t hide the truth from you, but I need you to promise me that you__'__re gonna be okay if I tell you this stuff.__"___

_Laura felt the blush rise in her cheeks as she ducked her chin in humiliation. __"__That__'__s only fair,__"__ she agreed, fighting back more tears before raising her gaze to her husband__'__s again. __"__I__'__m sorry. In theory I thought I__'__d come to terms with some things that obviously I haven__'__t yet. Help me?__"___

_"__Always,__"__ he said simply, taking her chin in his hand again as his lips began to close the distance between them. __"__You__'__re my wife. And nothing__'__s more important to me than that.__"___

_She managed to whisper, __"__I love you,__"__ just before his lips met hers, a world of emotion passing between them and increasing in intensity as the seconds passed._

_She embedded her fingers in the fabric of his shirt as both of his arms wrapped around her waist and back, pulling her firmly against his tall frame._

_"__Come home with me?__"__ he whispered huskily before kissing her again._

_"__Yes,__"__ she answered._

_Neither of them heard Virgil and Althea slide into the room just before they broke their embrace, but they both jumped back a bit when Virgil cleared his throat._

_Laura looked toward the door and Lonnie turned his head to follow her gaze, as Virgil waved a white handkerchief in surrender. __"__Do I take it the hostilities have ceased? A peace accord has been reached, perhaps?__"___

_Althea grinned impishly behind him. __"__That__'__s what it looks like to me.__"___

_"__An accord has been reached, yes,__"__ Laura grinned at her friends as she stood entwined in her husband__'__s arms._

_"__Great! Would you care to join us for a celebratory dinner?__"__ Althea inquired. __"__We__'__re having pot roast.__"___

_Lonnie released his wife only long enough to grab her hand and lead her across the kitchen. __"__Thank you, Althea,__"__ he said, kissing his friend on the cheek as he passed, __"__but we__'__re pretty beat. I think we__'__d do well with some quiet time tonight.__"___

_Althea__'__s smile was impossibly broad when she answered. __"__Oh, sure. Some other time.__"___

_Lonnie and Laura bid goodnight to their friends and headed for the front door, but neither of them missed Virgil__'__s knowing quip that followed them through the darkened hall. __"__Quiet time. Right.__"___

Laura sat alone with her memories, with only the electronic sounds of hospital equipment and her husband's steady, machine-assisted breathing for company. She thought about how very young they had been in their marriage when that first event had happened. They were just shy of their first anniversary when Lonnie came under fire, and there had been several close calls since then. True to his word, Lonnie had never tried to shield her from those incidents when they occurred, and Laura had worked mightily to live up to his expectations in each case.

After a while – though Laura was unsure just when it had happened – she began to believe that nothing truly terrible could happen to them or their friends. A number of the officers had been wounded in the line of duty, or had close calls of one sort or another, but no one had been seriously damaged, and no one at the Sparta Police Department had died since before Laura met any of them. She realized she had tricked herself into a false sense of security, the feeling that a bubble of good fortune surrounded them all and would protect those who were close to her heart. She supposed that, mathematically speaking, luck would be against someone at some point, but statistics and realism had not at all prepared her for the sight of her husband lying helpless in a hospital bed, his heart kept pumping and his lungs kept breathing by chirping and whirring machines. Her bubble of safety was gone, and she knew that even if Lonnie recovered, she did not know _how_ he would be, or whether she would ever feel safe again.

Eventually Laura's eyes refused to stay open any longer. She rested her forehead against one arm and allowed her heavy eyelids to droop shut. She listened to the rhythmic sounds of all the equipment surrounding the bed as weariness began to overtake her. Just before she drifted off, she thought she overheard a conversation in the hallway. Or was someone in the room with them? Was that Dr. Robb?

"Do you think he's going to make it?"

"No. There's very little chance. It's been four days and there's still no sign…"

"How long do you think he'll linger?"

"Hopefully not long. At least we can be fairly sure that he feels no pain right now. The one I'm really concerned about at the moment is his wife. I'm not sure she'll make it if he doesn't."

Laura tried to raise her heavy head to argue, but found she couldn't move. After long days of waiting and worrying, exhaustion finally claimed her and she lost all touch with the waking world.

TBC…


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5:

The first roiling wave of reality landed itself heavily between Lonnie's temples. When he realized that the pounding was coming from _inside_ his head, rather than outside it, he tried to bury himself once again in the blissful, pain-free oblivion from which he had risen. The effort proved futile, as his synapses began firing a slow but steady stream of information at him. None of the news was good – with every new sensation that rushed to him, one more body part seemed to be protesting in some way.  
  
As he forced his eyelids open, Lonnie searched for some awareness of where he was or some memory of what happened to put him in this position. Stark, halting images flashed through his mind, as if illuminated by strobe light. _A teenager in jeans and a t-shirt running ahead of him. A shout. A hand raised in his direction. An explosion of noise.__  
_  
Lonnie stopped himself. _'__Not now. Later,__'_ he commanded his brain in effort to ward off the sinking feeling that accompanied his memory. _'__I__'__m not supposed to remember this,__'_ he thought. It was supposed to be a blank. He had a feeling, however, that more important issues lay ahead of him.  
  
He let his mind wander down the length of his body, taking cautious inventory of what seemed to work and what didn't. Eyes? Fuzzy, but still seemed to be working. Arms? Both still there. Legs? Stiff, but seemed to be present and accounted for. More or less. As he explored the sensations coming to him, he realized he was holding a block of ice in one hand. Struggling to force stiff neck muscles to turn toward the end of his arm, he realized it wasn't ice; it was the cold, limp hand of his wife. If not for the mop of auburn hair, he wouldn't have recognized the faceless figure slumped over his bed side.

He tried to focus his thoughts on that arm, but his body seemed to be reacting very slowly to the orders his brain issued. He inhaled deeply, wincing at the stab of pain that permeated his chest and abdomen in response to his efforts. _'__Ouch__'__,_ he thought. Caution seemed to be the better course of action.

Slowly Lonnie let his eyes roam about the room. He wondered idly what day it was and how long he'd been lying in one place as he stared at the institutional green cinder-block wall in front of him. Several Styrofoam cups lined the tray-stand at the edge of the bed, each of which seemed to be nearly full of what he guessed must be very stale coffee, judging by the smell.

Before he could look any further, the door to his left opened, and Bubba Skinner entered the room. Lonnie opened his mouth to speak, but no sound came out as his lips formed Bubba's name.

Bubba's dark eyes grew wide with surprise and delight as he crossed the short distance to the bed. "Well hello there, stranger," Bubba smiled. "Good to see you."

Lonnie cleared his throat and tried again to speak. "How long?"

Quiet sympathy clouded Bubba's expression as he answered. "Five days, man. You had us worried."

"What happened?"

Bubba paused, regarding Lonnie closely. "You mean you don't remember?"

Lonnie shrugged one shoulder, immediately regretting the action as sore muscles protested the movement. "Don't know. Bits and pieces, maybe."

Bubba placed one big hand on Lonnie's shoulder. "Listen, now, don't you worry about it. I was just comin' in to check on you and let Laura know we've finally got our shooter. Austin came back to town early after she found out what happened. She's handlin' all the paperwork right now."

A ghost of a smile passed Lonnie's lips. "Took you five days?"

Bubba grinned hugely as he let out a snort of laughter. "If you're well enough to give me a hard time, I think you're gonna be just fine."

The noise finally roused the silent figure on the other side of the narrow bed. Lonnie watched as his wife raised her face and looked at Bubba. Ugly purple bruises stained the skin beneath her blue eyes. If he hadn't realized the seriousness of his situation before, the haggard, miserable exhaustion in Laura's expression would have certainly painted the picture for him.

She opened her mouth to speak just as Lonnie squeezed the frigid fingers still entwined with his own. Laura gasped and turned her face toward his as her eyes widened with surprise before rapidly filling with tears. "Honey, you…"

"Now, Lilabet, don't get upset. I'm okay. You know I hate to see you sad…"

"You…you're awake. You're okay, right?"

Lonnie's heart broke as he watched her chin quiver and tears slide down her smooth ivory cheeks. If only he could get his body to cooperate like he wanted, he'd take her in his arms and kiss away her sorrow. "Don't cry, baby," he said somewhat gruffly, fighting back the tears that pricked his own eyelids at the pitiful sight she presented.  
  
She nodded resolutely, swiping the back of her hand across her damp lashes. "Okay. You're right. As long as you promise me you're okay, I won't turn into a sap on you."  
  
Lonnie gave her a crooked smile before giving into the exhaustion that still pulled at the edges of his consciousness. He let his lids fall shut again, but squeezed his wife's hand so she'd know he was all right.  
  
Bubba lowered his voice to a quiet rumble. "Say, uh, why don't I go get the doctor and let you two have a minute, okay?"  
  
Lonnie cracked his eyelids once more, barely nodding as his wife looked back up into Bubba's face. "Thank you, Bubba."

When the door quietly sighed closed behind Bubba, Lonnie turned his head toward Laura again. "Hey," he said in a voice still broken from its long silence.

"Hey," she answered, fighting back more tears she'd promised him she wouldn't shed. "How do you feel?"  
  
He thought it over. "Kinda like I've been shot." He paused, raising his hand to brush back some of the red tangles hanging around her face. "I can tell by lookin' at you it musta been rough for a while there."  
  
She gave him a watery smile. "A little bit," she admitted through her sniffles. "But you had several churches prayin' for you on both sides of town, so I figured your chances were pretty good."

"That's good to know," he said. Wanting nothing more than to see some of her usual impishness return to her face, he added, "You really look terrible."

"I've been too busy to worry about silly things like primping," she answered.

He noted with some satisfaction that her next sniffle was more indignant than sad, and felt the corners of his mouth quirk upward a bit as she responded to his gentle ribbing.

Her eyes narrowed as she caught his smirk. She tilted her chin toward him. "Lonnie Jamison, you're pickin' on me. You're lyin' right here in this bed, after takin' ten years off my life, I might add, and you're _pickin__'_ on me! I don't believe it."

Lonnie tucked another stray strand of hair behind her ear before taking her hand in his once more and folding his arm toward his chest, pulling her down toward his face. "Still love me?" he asked.

No amount of effort could keep the tears out of joy from crowding behind her eyelids as she leaned forward and gently kissed him. "More than ever."

THE END

**Review Stuff: End a/n****'****s:**

A/N: Just wanted to send a heart-felt thanks to everyone who's been kind enough read and leave some feedback. Your opinions are _always_ welcome and never fail to surprise me. If any of you who didn't sign your reviews would ever like to chat, please feel free to drop me a line at annewithane61hotmail.com. I'd love to thank you personally for your kind notes.

Starcrossed: Thank you! I'm blushing. :D As I mentioned in my email, that muse is a frustratingly fickle thing. Thanks for reading, and then reading again.

The Power of the Book: What can I say, man? You amaze me, and inspire me with your talent and your wit and your good heart. I'd like to someday be even _half_ the writer you are! I think that, yeah, you picked the right major. :D You don't mind if I hold on to Elimani for a while when he gets here, do you? I promise to return him in good condition. (wink!)

Wildchild: I hope the ending pleases you. Bubba doesn't seem to want to have too much to do with this story – being a bit squeamish when it comes to all that mushy emotional stuff as he is – but I promise I've got much more planned for him in two upcoming tales. I hope you approve!

Ian's Mom: You're too kind. Thank you! If you haven't tried your own hand at a "Heat" story yet, I strongly encourage it. It's lots of fun, and definitely a challenge, and kind of addictive in its own way. LOL

A Fan: Thank you so much for your kind words. Your note truly made my day. Thank you for the good school-related wishes. I can't wait to embrace this next adventure (and hopefully I'll finally decide what I want to be when I grow up)!

Meg: I share your thoughts about Lonnie's background. I always thought he presented an interesting puzzle, and it was the puzzle that inspired my scratching bits of dialogue down on paper until a story appeared. I tried a couple of drafts at a chapter like the one you suggested; but – darn him – Lonnie wanted to be pretty quiet as I whittled away at this story. He seemed to want to be talked _about,_ rather than do the talking himself. He's got much more to say in two upcoming stories, though, so I hope you'll be pleased with those.

HoPo: Thank you so much for taking the time to leave not one, but _two_ reviews at the same time. I'm blushing. :-) You're notes made me grin from ear to ear all day. I hope you like the revisions, and the outcome. Thanks for reading!

A Little Fun Trivia: For those of you who are still with me! I make no promises that some of these won't appear in future stories. I got this stuff while watching the HotN marathon on Turner South over the President's Day holiday:

ODD Southern LAWS:

It Tennessee, it's illegal to shoot any wildlife animal from a moving vehicle, except for whales. _Which, you know, is an important distinction in __Tennessee__!_

In Tennessee, it's illegal to ride a bicycle without both hands on the handlebars.

In Memphis, Tennessee, it is illegal for frogs to croak after 11 pm. _The First Amendment guarantees free speech, not the right to ribbit._

In Nashville, it's illegal for rollerbladers to tie themselves to moving vehicles on the highway. _I__'__m so glad the legal system is there to pick up where common sense apparently leaves off._

In South Carolina it is illegal to fire a missile, unless you have a permit. _What a shame. And here I was gonna break out my Saturn 5 this weekend._

In Tennessee, it's illegal to use a lasso to catch a fish. _Boy, I don__'__t know__…___

In Alabama, it is illegal to wear a fake mustache that causes laughter in church. _So, I suppose that means you could wear one that causes wailing and the gnashing of teeth?_

In Oneida, Tennessee, it's illegal to sing the song "It Ain't Gonna Rain No Mo'."

In Georgia, it's illegal to carry an ice cream cone in your back pocket on a Sunday. _So, Monday through Saturday are okay?_

In Tennessee, it's illegal to give away free ice cream, but it's perfectly legal to eat road kill. _I swear I__'__m not makin__'__ these up. Ben and Jerry__'__s can__'__t do their national __'__Free Cone Day__'__ in __Tennessee__ because of this piece of legislation. I__'__m surprised the people of __Tennessee__ haven__'__t risen up in revolt already. I__'__m just sayin__'…___


End file.
